Highwind
by Midgar Blues
Summary: Cloud's journey from redemption to 7th Heaven. Post Advent Children.
1. Chapter 1

**I've been a long time reader/lurker, but as a rule I don't usually write canon fanfiction. At least, I never had any intention of it. Then I found an old external drive and found this story I wrote around 2010/11-ish. I completely forgot about it. So, I guess I did intend to write it at one point - which is weird considering I basically suck at canon. I thought I should get myself an account and publish. It's strictly Tifa and Cloud. I wrote it in first person from Cloud's POV because I'm too ADHD to write third. If that even makes sense lol. There might be chapters from Tifa's perspective but I'm not sure yet. I have 6 chapters written all between 3-4K and I hope you'll give it a chance.**  
**I edited this all myself. I'm not perfect, but I really don't know anyone who shares my love for FFVII to beta it for me.**  
**Btw, how good was this year's E3 and TGS? Wooooo!**

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**Chapter 1**

**Cloud.**

Can I really die? Or more accurately, can the stigma really kill me? It's one of those questions that keeps me up at night, but it's not as if I've been sleeping in the first place.

I'm not in denial. I went through the SOLDIER treatment; I'm a genetically bio-engineered super soldier created to withstand what no human could. I'm supposed to be immune to disease, to most things, but then, I was supposed to be a damn Sephiroth clone, too.

The irony? My DNA was mutated with Jenova to make me super human, but now those same cells running through my bloodstream courtesy of the tainted Lifestream are killing me.

Or maybe they won't and I'll live out the rest of my life with periodic bouts of mind numbing pain with that bastard constantly in my head again.

Sometimes I wonder whether I'll end up like Lucrecia, with my soul fusing to my body unable to die, but neither living nor dead.

It's pretty much how I'm living now.

I wonder whether I'll do to Tifa what Lucrecia did to Vincent; whether it's inevitable. Whether hurting her is inevitable. Or whether I'll lose sight of her again through the cracks in my mind.

I still have to catch myself when my thoughts begin to stray, wondering whether they're mine or Zack's. It's a hazard of riding on one long stretch of road after another. The monotony makes my mind wander until I'm so far down I begin to question where I end and he begins.

When I hear his voice, I immediately attempt to attach it to a memory while hoping it isn't another illusion; a projection. Something he never spoke at all, but something _I_ did. It's the same with Aerith. Sometimes, I see an image of her face and wonder whether it's something my own heart has conjured, or whether they're Zack's memories of her that were downloaded to my fragmented mind as it fought to repair itself.

Aerith... I thought I loved her, only to realize she was Zack's girl; part of the reason we were coming back to Midgar. Yeah, that was a great awakening. Now I don't know what the hell I feel. Actually, that's bullshit; I know _exactly_ what I feel. Tifa helped me reconstruct my memories in the Lifestream, to differentiate between who I am and what splintered off as a result of Mako addiction and Jenova. But not only that, in the process I reconnected with her; I just can't do anything about it.

While I was able to separate myself from Zack and find myself again, I still struggle with it. Zack, Aerith and how I once fit in their lives, and how they fit in mine... When the lines between what's real and what's imagined are often blurred, it's a constant battle to keep myself sane.

What I can barely admit to myself is I need Tifa. I need her to remind me who I am when it threatens to overrun me again. Especially now as I fight the physical manifestations of Geostigma that's giving Sephiroth free rein in my head again. I need her more than ever, but I can't bear the pain in her eyes that my presence causes her. Pain I know I'm causing her. Her pain is tangible to me. I feel it as well, and it threatens to send me right back to the beginning.

Dissociative Identity Disorder, or some psychobabble, caused from having my brain fried by concentrated levels of Mako. Something I should never have gone through. It said it right there in my psyche-evaluation for SOLDIER. Mental capacity: weak, and stamped in big, bold, red letters, "NOT A SUITABLE CANDIDATE".

A weak-minded grunt; that's what I was relegated to, despite passing my physical with flying colors.

Weak mind, strong body; your body overcompensates as Vince says. It definitely explains me.

I want to tell Tifa I'm sick, that I have this disease, but I can't bring myself to. I can't let it consume her like it eventually will me. She'll fight to the last breath; it's in her nature. I know what that will do to her; to fight a battle you can't win. I can't let that be her fate. I can't let her watch me die like I did Zack.

Another irony? Of all my memories I want to forget—at the very least mute—Zack's death is one of the clearest. It's still so hard grasp; of him lying in a pool of his own blood, riddled with bullets, too many to count, one a gaping wound in his head. I saw his Mako-infused cells healing him even as he lay dying, but he'd already lost too much blood, and some things not even a SOLDIER-enhanced body can reverse. If he could have held on for a few more minutes he might have made it.

I guess I'll never know.

Maybe if the Geostigma can cause as much damage as the grunts did to Zack I'll eventually succumb. It doesn't seem possible, though.

Materia helps. It helps keep Sephiroth out and my mind anchored while I'm on deliveries. I keep my eyes ahead of me, and my thoughts centered on the day's schedule. I don't look too far ahead or behind. One day at a time, and while I've removed myself from Tifa, from all of them, they're the reason I get up every morning. The reason I push through the physical and psychological pain and endless miles, each bleeding into the next, to make enough gil and ensure they have everything they need.

They give me a reason for existing even if I can't be there for them in any other sense.

Barret left Marlene in my care, in Tifa's care, I feel as much responsibility for her as I do for Denzel. Denzel... The ruins of Midgar are virtually inhabited, and yet that's where I found him, by Aerith's church in Sector Five, barely conscious and struck down by the same disease plaguing me and half the city. Tifa, Marlene, and Denzel; the family I thought I could have. The family I believed could pull me out of this waking nightmare once and for all.

We tried in the beginning; to be a family. It was when Barret was living with us before Denzel came along, and before I started doing deliveries. It was strange at first; living such a mundane life after what we'd all been through, but it was nice. More than nice. Tifa and I shared a room, and a bed, and we caught up on a lot. It was the distraction I needed, what we both needed, but I was still struggling to process who I was and what was real. As the pace of living slowed, the past started to catch up with me, and when it caught me, it hit me hard. All of it. The Nibel Reactor, Hojo, The Reunion Project, Mako addiction, being too useless and catatonic to help Zack, killing half of Sector One when the reactor blew, and then losing Jessie, Biggs and Wedge. Then of course Aerith. The Cetra I promised to protect.

Some bodyguard I turned out to be. Not only did I watch her die the same way I did Zack, I let Sephiroth get in my head to the point I almost killed her myself.

Then to top it off, I found out I had Geostigma.

I hit rock bottom, and I knew I couldn't drag Tifa and the kids back down with me so I left.

I miss her. I haven't seen her in the flesh now in months. It's been too long; too long since I've laid eyes on that gorgeous body that I swear defies logic. Too long since I've seen her smile, or gazed into her eyes; those eyes of hers that shouldn't appear as gentle as they do given their color.

When you first set eyes on Tifa she kind of takes you back. I still recall the reaction I had to her when she found me semi-conscious and half dead at Sector Seven's train station. It was like seeing her for the first time all over again. Strikingly beautiful, tall and thin but full of muscles that run the entire length of her, and with that often unnerving ruby red gaze. She's intimidating and with good reason, but then she opens her mouth and the sweetest, softest sound comes out. And when she smiles it's all over.

I don't know what she sees in me. She's completely out of my league; she always has been. At best I'm a pretty boy. At worst I can pass as a woman, and I have.

Sometimes I drive past 7th Heaven, though I keep my eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead of me. From my periphery, I see the lights on and imagine Tifa serving the customers around Edge, that eternal smile on her lips, and Denzel and Marlene running in and out, getting under foot. Though the reality for Denzel isn't as happy. Kids succumb to the stigma rapidly, and he's no different. He's becoming more and more bedridden with each passing day. It was something Tifa said in one of her messages to me not long ago; though, I had to read between the lines like I often do with her. She's forever the optimist, but he's not doing so great.

"He was full of life today, Cloud. It was such a good day."

I play that message every damn day, no matter how much it hurts. I need it to remind me that there are bigger things than me and my shit to keep me going. To keep Sephiroth out of my head, and the people I love in.

She calls me every day, keeping that line of communication open with me even though I never answer. She tells me how the bar's going, how the kids are, whether any of the guys from AVALANCHE have stopped by. She always starts with speaking my name, always careful to make sure I know how important I am to her. "Cloud, you'll never guess what happened...", or "Cloud, make sure you're eating"; "Cloud, we miss you".

It only makes me feel like a complete bastard—even more so because I never pick up. The day I do, though, I'll be riding back to 7th Heaven before I'm aware of it. That's why I don't pick up. I gotta play it safe.

I keep all her messages, the one-sided conversations that have replaced the relationship I once pinned all my hopes on. They're all I have left with her. Them and my memories of her; of growing up with her in Nibelheim, and eventually fighting alongside her. They're the very few memories I have that have remained intact and free from obscurity. Maybe because I've always known her, and not just because of what happened at the Nibel Reactor that started this whole mess, throwing the two of us back into each other's trajectory. To me, she was always larger than life when mine was always ordinary; the girl next door who was completely out of my reach.

There's one memory I have with her that's never far from my thoughts. The night before our final battle with Sephiroth in the Northern Crater. Sometimes it's all I want to think about, and other times I have to fight to keep it from my thoughts, because the moment I do it immediately threatens my resolve. It gives me a whole shit ton of false hope, and it messes with my head more than Sephiroth ever can. I start believing that maybe my body is too strong and will eventually heal itself from the stigma; maybe it really isn't contagious and I won't have to worry about passing it onto her; maybe we can get back to where we left off; maybe she can stop the hallucinations and I'll stop getting that bastard in my head telling me to slaughter them all in their sleep.

When I think back on it, which isn't nearly as much as I want to, I almost talk myself into believing it was all too damn good to have been real. This is despite not knowing what the hell I was doing, and with Cid and Barret watching everything from The Highwind above us – probably with damn binoculars in Cid's case. I was a virgin, and so was she. It was awkward and clumsy, and it was over far too soon, but we laughed, actually we giggled like we were kids, and she slept in my arms all night. And when I close my eyes I can still recall the sensation of her naked skin beneath my fingers, and how it felt to be deep within her. That night sticks with me more than every one of the early days in that pokey little room on top of 7th Heaven. We were still fresh from the Lifestream, and it was the first time I felt whole in my entire life.

I left Nibelheim to join SOLDIER hoping that very thing would one day happen. I had this stupid fantasy of returning to my hometown a hero and impressing her. I honestly believed the moment she saw me in my uniform she wouldn't have been able to resist me, but what I didn't realize was that she always felt the same way about me that I did about her. I didn't find out until we were in the Lifestream together, but it was right in front of me all along.

She was always right in front of me, but for a few turbulent months so was Aerith. Aerith immediately identified Zack in me, and while having no idea who the hell I even was I was immediately taken by her. Tifa was forced to witness all of it. It's the downside to regaining my memories—or more regaining my identity, because it's not as if I had amnesia. When I think back on it now, after I took Aerith on a date to Gold Saucer, it's obvious how hurt Tifa was. She still smiled though, and put on a brave face. I can barely stand the thought of it; especially knowing I never explained any of it to her. She must still believe I was in love with Aerith. That maybe I still am. I meant to tell her, but the day I went to deliver flowers to Elmyra it came at the end of a catalyst that was slowly eating away at me. I realize now how it must have looked from Tifa's perspective; how I came home and drunk myself stupid, then turned into a brooding, sulking asshole. Tifa kicked me out of our room that night. I never went back.

I always realize too late. She deserves so much better than me. If she ever realizes that it'll be the end of me, but it doesn't make it any less true.

I'm staying in Aerith's church at night, and while Tifa will never admit it, it's something else that hurts her. Barret told me, along with an earful while threatening to kick my ass. What Tifa, or Barret, doesn't realize is it's not because I'm pining away for Aerith, though the guilt is still hard to deal with, but because Aerith's presence still lingers and she removes the constantly brewing storm in my head so I can sleep. Materia helps out there as well, and I'm surprised that little demon Yuffie hasn't attempted to steal it, but sometimes late at night I'm positive I see Aerith, and Zack, as well, and that's when sleep hits me the hardest. I sleep without any visions of being impaled on the end of Sephiroth's Masamune, or of seeing Aerith slaughtered, or of Zack slowly drowning in his own blood. Usually I dream of Tifa, of being rid of this damn disease and being with her again; of sleeping in bed with her instead of on rotting timber floors. Of doing a lot more than sleeping.

I'm no good to her now, and I have to come to terms with it. The Geostigma will more than likely tear my mind open again long before it destroys my body, and I will never risk doing to Tifa what I once did to Aerith. So while I can still ride I'll continue doing deliveries, making enough gil and dreaming that one day I can return home to 7th Heaven and be with my family again. Be with my girl.

**. . .**

"Where's my sword?" I put the question to Tifa as she helps me out of the body of water that's now replaced Aerith's flower bed. I feel dazed and my equilibrium is off. I'm not entirely sure I'm even rational, or what the hell just happened.

"Don't worry about it just now. We'll get Barret to find it, or Vince," she assures me, wrapping her arms securely around my waist.

I'm unsteady on my feet, and she's aware of it. Actually, my entire body is practically quaking, and I barely have control over it. I was dead, impaled and sliced several times by one of Sephiroth's remnants. Zack came, he gave me one of his pep talks, giving me the strength to beat Kadaj, or Sephiroth—or whatever the hell he was. And Aerith... Aerith healed the planet again like she did when she summoned Holy, curing Geostigma. Mine, all the kids struck down with it. Denzel's.

"Cloud, Cloud! It's gone! I'm all better!" He jumps up and down beside me, his clothes wet and spraying all over Marlene. Marlene laughs with him, taking his hands to join in on his excitement.

I place my hand on top of his head, managing half a smile, but I almost feel as if I'm swaying. "That's great, kid."

"Spikey!" Barret greets me, hooking his elbow around my neck and all but crippling me. "You're back, yo!"

"I'm back..." I glance at Tifa hoping she can rescue me. "I might need to sleep. For a while. Where... is my bed...?" The church is altered, destroyed; it's now an indoor swimming pool. Aerith was here, and so was Zack. Unless it was just another illusion. "Tifa... Was it real?"

"Was what real, Cloud?" she asks, her head tilting with confusion. And concern. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Can we go home?"

"Of course." She breaks into an immediate smile, and deep down my chest aches; it's been too long since I've seen it.

"You're beautiful. I'm sorry. I'm an asshole. Shit..."

She laughs, but her emotions appear as frayed as mine. They're all over the place; _I'm_ all over the place. "It's okay. Come on." She helps me forward toward the entrance of the church, one step at a time. My legs feel like lead, my entire body of skin feels almost alien to me.

They're all here among the scores of people from Edge. Cid, Vince, Barret, that demon Yuffie. Of course they are, though. They helped me battle Bahamut, or whatever that thing was. I actually thought I was going to lose Tifa; she was almost crushed. I got to her just in time but I was so scared I wouldn't make it. More scared than I've been in a long while.

Sort of puts things into perspective.

"Where's my... Fen—motorcycle?" I glance around absently; I can't remember where I left it, either.

"Cloud, it's _okay_," Tifa insists, and there's warmth in her voice, and something else...

"I love you." I shake my head. My thoughts are disjointed, but at the same time they're clear. And... I've never spoken those words to her before.

"I love you, too." She doesn't hesitate and her voice almost breaks.

God, I'm a piece of shit. No, I'm worse than shit. "Just say you forgive me, and Mar-Marlene... Denzel... forgives me."

"We all forgive you. We all love you. Do you have any idea what you did today?"

"I... Please find my sword. I feel... I don't like not having it." The truth? I feel defenseless without it.

"We'll find it." She pulls me through the double doors to the ruins outside, and I immediately pause, glancing around for my bike. I can't see it; there's nothing but the rubble and debris of what was once Sector Five, and Reno. That idiot.

"Want a lift, Cloud?" he offers in that annoying, drawling voice of his.

"No. Tifa?" I glance down at her.

She raises her eyebrows in question, her smile resurfacing. "Yeah?"

"I was sleeping here because Aerith helped me sleep..." Shit, that didn't come out right. "I mean," I shake my head again, attempting to make sense of... something, "she helped me sleep. Shit..."

"That's okay," she replies softly, but there it is again; a waver in her voice.

"You don't sound so good, man? Sure you're cured?" Reno asks.

"Get out of my way," I shove past him. "Where's my bike?"

"Don't ask me," he replies.

I ignore him and turn my attention back to Tifa. She smells good. I'm not sure why it suddenly occurs to me, but she always has. "Teef?"

"The guys will find it. Can you walk?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. I mean, I feel kind of... strange."

"You went through a lot."

"I died."

"Oh..."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry about."

"Tell that little demon to keep her pesky little hands off my materia."

She laughs; it's all soft and light, and I think maybe I'm hallucinating. "Okay. I will."

"It helps me sleep. _You_ help me sleep. And Aerith..." I squeeze my eyes shut in frustration. I'm barely coherent, but my thoughts are sharp. Too sharp, maybe. I'm struggling to comprehend them. Or anything.

"I'm glad," she says, and... how can she sound so okay and_ not_ okay at the same time? Especially when I keep throwing Aerith in her face. They were close too, though. It makes sense.

"It was never her I loved Teef. It was you. Always... you..."

"Keep walking," she encourages me, but I'm stumbling. I feel like I'm drunk. Maybe I am.

"Yo." I hear Barret's voice behind me just as he grabs my elbow. "You right, spikey?"

"Fine. Great..." I mutter. The sun's in my eyes; it's blinding me. I look up at what's left of the plate overhead almost as if it's the first time I'm seeing it.

"He's okay," Tifa speaks up. "He just needs some rest."

"Saved the world again, eh?" Barret adds, and his voice is as loud as ever.

"What?" I utter blankly. "Yeah..."

"I think he's sick, man."

"Reno!" Tifa bursts. She sounds angry; she very rarely is. "Can you at least get a car, or something?"

"Rude's taking care of it."

He arrives a minute later in a pick-up, staring at Tifa like he always is; something he can't hide behind those shades he's always wearing. I feel kind of bad for the guy, and I wonder whether it's the same way I used to stare at her back in Nibelheim. And even now.

Barret hoists me into the back cabin. I trip and almost fall over the side, but it's so familiar I begin to lose myself in time. Only this time it's Tifa cushioning me as the truck hits various bumps and potholes, and not Zack. I get motion sick. How did I forget? I start to worry I might puke my guts up, but it's only a short trip. In ten minutes we're back in Edge before Tifa's dragging me past the bar and up the back stairs to the apartment above. Barret's helping. Too roughly. He over compensates for his lack of arm, and he's almost breaking mine.

Yuffie is jumping behind us; her head's appearing in and out of my periphery until the sense of vertigo overruns me again.

"She's giving me a headache, Teef."

"You're funny, Cloud!" the demons screeches. She sounds like a child. A hyperactive one. With a Shuriken and stolen materia. She'll kill us all.

"Yuffie..." Tifa sighs. "He's been through a lot.

"Party pooper!" she screeches again, a decibel higher, before disappearing.

"Ugh, my head..."

"It's okay," Tifa continues to reassure me, and her voice is warm, soothing...

I close my eyes and suddenly I'm falling forward, my face hitting cushions and sheets that smell like her.

Barret laughs. It's loud. Louder than usual. Even Tifa remarks on it.

"Barret, my ear!"

"Sorry, Teef." His laughter increases, but I have no idea what's so funny.

"Tifaaaaa," I mumble, groaning lowly to myself. The room's spinning, and I feel like I'm oozing out of my skin. "I'm sorry for drinking so much. For... being an asshole."

"It's all right, silly. Go to sleep."

"Stay with me."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"I promise." I feel her hand against my forehead, her fingers pushing into my hair.

I reach out and grab it, pulling her to me, but I can't open my eyes. I'm definitely drunk. "Lay with me, Teef."

"Okay, but you're wet."

"I...I—what? Did I wet myself? Shit..."

She laughs again; it's music to my ears. "Let's get you out of them."

She peels my clothes off, and if I wasn't so drunk I might have felt self-conscious about it, but all I feel is relief. And a sense of weightlessness; as if they're not wet clothes she's pulling from me but something... a lot heavier.

"Teef..." I murmur into the darkness, but I can feel her warmth beside me.

"Yes?" Her fingers graze over my brow again, lulling me further down.

"Kiss me..."

She does. Her lips press lightly to mine, slightly parted, and they're soft, almost burning.

In reply I groan; out loud. Far too loud. "I've missed you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello to the...10 people reading this? Hopefully I pick up more readers as I go, but that's okay. If I'm writing for 1 person or 1 million I'm happy.**  
**I hope you enjoy chapter 2.**

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**Chapter 2**

**Cloud**

It's early morning when I wake; the sun's just barely filtering through the curtains on the small windows in Tifa's room. She's laying in my arms; I felt her before the veil of sleep fully lifted from me. I smelled her even before that. I dreamed about her all night. _All night_, and while she's not naked, I'm pretty sure I am. I want to reach down and check, but I don't want to disturb her, or let her know what I'm doing. Besides, I like my hands where they are; around her.

I'm not sure how I became removed from my clothes. I don't really know how to ask, but I'm pretty certain we didn't do anything. Yeah, I'd remember if we did. It's been that long.

I open my eyes, squinting several times against the brightness of the morning before fixing them to the ceiling and the several exposed pipes. The events of the day before aren't as fragmented as they were last night. They're clearer now; a lot more anchored.

Sephiroth manifested through his remnants and what was left of Jenova that Rufus had kept hidden. I should kill that bastard for not disposing of it when he had the chance. I battled the remnants for a few days leading up to Sephiroth's return. Pretty weakly, too. I almost forgot how to fight, but hey, I forgot I wasn't Zack.

I think I lost my damn sword.

I forgot how strong Sephiroth was, too, and what it feels like to have his sword stuck straight through me; through my lungs and missing my heart by a whisker. I couldn't breathe; I could barely move, but then he threatened Tifa. He threatened all of them. I don't know where I found the strength, or how. Zack; it could only have been Zack. He's the only person who can get me fighting; decently, anyway. By rights I should be dead, and I still can't understand why I'm not. Or why I feel so... _okay_. All the guilt, pain, and damn trauma that was hanging heavily over me only a few days ago feels as if it's been fully lifted.

I feel light, but then that was all the dilly-dallying I was doing.

I smile to myself before I'm aware of it. Tifa was never going to let me wallow. Loz was damn lucky I didn't rip his head off for what he did to her. She put up a good fight I heard; she probably would have kicked my ass.

I should let her. I deserve it and more.

I turn my head to face her, resting my nose against her temple. Her skin is soft, too soft, and her long dark lashes rest on the tops of her cheek bones. She's warm against me, and I think I might have boxers on. I hope I have. She's wearing a singlet top-thing. It's small; it barely covers her chest. I sort of hope she wore it deliberately.

I need to get up; to use the bathroom. With Tifa drenched all over me my skin's practically buzzing. I need to get up before she notices what it's doing to me, because yeah, that won't be awkward or anything. Plus, I can hear that little demon downstairs, and Barret. I swear he must have some kind of hearing loss. He has to realize how loud his voice is.

He laughs, it echoes along the pipeline and into our room causing Tifa to stir. She takes a drowsy breath in and releases it into a long hum. "Cloud..." she murmurs.

I break into a grin this time; I couldn't prevent it if I tried.

Her eyes snap open a moment later before they close again and a lazy smile pulls on her lips. "Hey," she greets me, her voice all adorably throaty and husky.

"Hey." I tuck a strand of her hair away from her face; she hums again, and I really need to get up. It's too easy to talk myself into believing her pleasure is from something else.

"You okay?" she pulls herself off me and sits up, pulling hair out of _my_ eyes this time. My hair defies logic; like her body.

"I'm fine."

"What's the last thing you remember?" She's gazing too deeply into my eyes. I'm not sure what she's looking for, but hers are beginning to compromise me.

"Erm... Sephiroth, Kadaj. And Aerith, I-I think..." Rubbing the back of my neck, I break her gaze, feeling suddenly culpable.

Should I tell her about Aerith? Will she take it the wrong way? Will she believe me?

She nods, her smile fading somewhat, and yeah, I'm an asshole. "That's good." Her voice softens. "Do you remember the church?"

"I've... been sleeping in it," I admit in a mumble, my eyes dropping to my boxers. I'm wearing them, thank the damn Cetras.

"No, I mean, I know you have and it's all right. I meant the church yesterday. The spring."

"The spring...?" I'm confused.

"You don't remember." It's not a question. "Your Geostigma is cured."

"Yeah... I know. I can't feel him in my head anymore." Or see the gruesome images the bastard was constantly planting in my thoughts. "Denzel?"

"He's healed as well, Cloud. It's amazing."

"That's... good." I manage half a smile, but I don't like that there are blind spots in my memory. It's giving me an uneasy sense of déjà vu.

"You don't remember anything after... Sephiroth?"

"I... no. Tell me what happened."

She clears her throat; clearing the early morning thickness from it before she begins; she's almost reluctant. "You were shot, Cloud, and the remnants exploded, I think. When we got to you, you were barely alive and covered in blood. We thought we'd lost you." Her voice tremors and she pauses to inhale it roughly back.

"I'm sorry," I break in quietly before she can continue, and it brings the smile back to her lips.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"Because... I don't know..."

Her smile almost becomes laughter gently through her nose. "Silly," she teases me.

It's good to see her smile again; to smile with her. To smile in general. "What happened, after... I was shot...?" I coax her to continue.

"Oh..." She clears her throat again and continues, "We heard that a spring had welled from beneath the flowers in Aerith's church. A spring of pure Lifestream. Everyone from all over Edge was running there."

"Ah... Teef—wait," recollection hits me. "The water in her church, it sprang up when I was there yesterday. That's when it rid the stigma from my arm."

"Yes..." she whispers. "She cured you, Cloud, so you could fight him." She's close to tears.

I almost smile, and my fingers are itching to wrap around her; to comfort her. "I'm sorry... I cut in again."

She shakes her head. "It's all right. Anyway, Vince and Barret carried you to the church and laid you in the water. Almost immediately your wounds were healed and you woke up. That's when you healed Denzel."

"_I_ healed him?"

"You placed him in the water with the other kids who had it." She smiles warmly this time, it softens behind her eyes, and I hastily sever mine from them and clear my throat.

"Did I lose my sword?"

"No, Cid had it the whole time."

"Why... am I naked?" I ask my hands, and this time the laughter does shoot from her nose.

"You were wet."

"Yeah, that makes sense," I mumble.

Her laugher increases, and I glance back up at her wondering what's amusing her. "You were so funny. It was the most I've ever heard you talk in so long. You talked more in an hour than you usually do in a week."

"I don't... remember," I state the obvious. I guess I talk a lot when I've suddenly been cured of an _incurable_ disease.

"Oh, Cloud..."

"They were there, Teef."

"Who was?" she asks, and I look back up as her head tilts.

"Zack and Aerith, at the church." Why I remember that and nothing else I have no idea.

"Oh... You were staring behind us. I was wondering what you were looking at. Sometimes I see her too. Or I think I do."

"You do?" This surprises me.

"Of course."

"Tifa...?" I ask after a moment; of staring at her breasts.

"Yeah?" I'm pretty sure she noticed.

"Can... I move back?"

"Of course you can," she says without delay and there's that smile again. She's happy. She wants me back, and I have no idea why.

"I can sleep in my room if you'd prefer," I offer, hoping she'll tell me I'm being silly again. I just don't want to overstep. Or assume.

"Whatever you feel comfortable with." She hesitates; it's only brief, but it's noticeable. I want to ask her why; whether she's disappointed or relieved, but I don't.

I nod once. "Thank you."

"Don't be silly." There it is, but not when I wanted it. "Everyone's downstairs. Do you want to get up?"

"Yeah."

She pulls herself from the bed first. Along with that skimpy little top, she's only wearing her underwear; they're just as skimpy. I might be having an erection; either that or the Geostigma hasn't gone anywhere and has shifted to my groin.

"You okay?" she asks glancing at me over her shoulder no doubt noticing that my eyes are beginning to glaze.

"Fine." My smile is tight; the mess in my boxers doesn't help. Thank the Cetras they're black.

"Do you want a shower?" she asks, too innocently, and I want to close my eyes and groan out loud hoping she hasn't noticed.

"You go first."

"I'm fine."

Yeah, she noticed, but there's not much she doesn't.

**. . .**

"Cloud!" Marlene bursts, wrapping her arms around my waist the moment I come downstairs.

"Hey... Marlene." I ruffle her hair as she gazes up at me with a cheesy grin.

She's an odd one, this kid. She's like a little adult in the body of a six year old. Maybe it's because she's seen too much in her short years and it's matured her beyond them. Or maybe because compared to the four foot mutant ninja, Yuffie, Marlene actually is mature.

The four foot mutant presently raiding the refrigerator.

"He's awake!" she exclaims a moment later in that high octave voice of hers that feels like it's scraping its way out of your brain. "Get your anti-social rear end over here and give me a hug! We thought you were a goner yesterday!"

"Sorry to disappoint you," I murmur wryly, obliging her regardless.

She leaps up and grabs me around the neck, almost dragging me on top of her. She doesn't hug me though; she kisses me. All over my face.

I'm forced to drag her back; she's traumatizing Marlene. And me.

"Spikey!" Barret's voice assaults my ears half a second before his palm thuds to my shoulder. Along with the pitch of his voice, he doesn't know his own strength. He probably does, though.

"Hey. Thanks for... carrying me. Yesterday." Awkward. I shut up.

"You sorted stuff out with Teef?" he inches closer to me as if he'd spoken it covertly, when in reality he'd practically yelled it out to the entire neighborhood.

I close my eyes momentarily against it.

"Cloud and I are fine," Tifa speaks up lightly as she makes her way into the bar, placing her hand lightly to my shoulder as she passes. Of course she heard; there wouldn't be a person in Edge who didn't.

"Hey, Cloud, can you take me on a ride on Fenrir?" Denzel's suddenly before me. He's full of life. His eyes bright; his smile brighter. All teeth and blue eyes. It's the first time I've ever seen him like this. It's amazing what not dying can do for a kid.

"When I get that hunk of scrap mental fixed up," Barret answers his question. "You banged it up pretty good yesterday, spikey."

"Damn," I mutter.

"That's okay." Denzel's not deterred. "But you're staying now. Aren't you, Cloud?"

"I'm staying."

His smile turns to a broad grin and he whips around to join Marlene before the two of them scamper back up the stairs.

I sit myself at the bar next to Vince. His lack of conversation often takes emphasis off mine.

"Cloud," he turns his head and nods once, "it's been a while." It's the same thing he always says to me, despite the fact that I saw him yesterday. I suspect Vince has no sense of time. I guess hibernating in a coffin for a generation will do that to you.

"Hmm," I reply, nodding in return.

"I got a phone." He holds it out to me. It's mine.

"Thanks." I take it from him. It's water logged. Damn. Something else I'll have to fix.

Tifa slides a coffee in front of me; it's accompanied by a warm smile as her eyes rest on mine for a pause too long. I blush, even more so when the demon spawn snorts loudly.

"Aww, Vinnie, aren't they cuuuute?" She throws her enthusiasm over Vincent, jumping up and down against him, and he doesn't appear nearly as opposed to it as any sane person would be.

"I can't tell," he replies.

"Gonna tell Cloud the good news, Vinnie!" Cid. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, and with his other he hands me my sword. "What is this contraption, anyhow?"

"Never mind, and... what good news?" I hand my sword to Tifa; she disappears with it in the storage room.

"These two have decided they're _in love_." He snickers referring to Vincent and... the demon.

I almost choke, turning my gaze to Vince hoping I misheard. He's looking suspiciously pleased with himself, a smirk just visible above the collar of his cape.

"Have you lost touch with reality?" I put to him in near disbelieve.

Yuffie immediately whacks me in the head; I jerks sideways. "Rude—RUDE! You oughta talk!—your hair is _so_ weird." She starts yanking on it. "How—what kind of product do you use? Can you get me some?"

"Get her off me," I appeal to Tifa who only laughs.

"Seriously, you could take out an eye." Yuffie tugs it one more time before I edge her away from me with my elbow.

"I enjoy her... _energy_," Vince offers up by way of an explanation.

"Have you tried a poodle?"

The demon slaps me again. "You're hilaaaarious, Cloooooud." I think she's being sarcastic, but it's never safe to tell. "Wearing black again. Like your emo soul."

"In case you die," I counter.

Cid laughs, so does Barret; only his is thunderous. And ear-piercing.

"Vinnie—beat him up!" she shrieks in protest.

"I can't do that, Yoof."

_Yoof_...? Kill me.

My gaze meets Tifa's. She subtly smiles. I return it; it doesn't go unnoticed.

"Maybe you should get drunk again," Yuffie adds as some kind of accusation. "You were almost interesting last night."

"Drunk...?" I turn my confusion to Tifa.

"Just battle-drunk, eh, Cloud!" Cid grips my shoulder.

"Yeah, you were all, 'I looooove you, Teeeeeeef'. 'Kiss me, Teeeeeeeef," the demon taunts me while I'm fairly certain I've just been skewered by Sephiroth's sword again.

My hand squeezes around the mug of coffee I'm still clutching until I hear the ceramic begin to strain.

"Yuffie..." Tifa says quietly.

"Barret." I turn to him, but for what I have no idea. Hoping he'll contradict the wretch, I guess.

He doesn't, and my heart's about to stall behind my ribs.

"Somethin' in that water, I reckon," is his explanation as I immediately lunge to my feet.

"Yeah, a truth serum," the demon adds.

"Where's my bike?" I ask him, probably too desperately.

"Round back." He follows me out.

**. . .**

"My advice?" Barret speaks up after a full twenty minutes of silence as I crank out the several dents in my bike's front fender. "Take her away for a day or so and get back to where ya once were. Before you started over-analyzin' shit and sabotaging everything. We're gonna be hangin' around for a while, so we'll watch the kids. 'Cause I don't want Marlene ringin' me up in a couple-a months telling me how you two aint doin' good again."

I turn to him in surprise. And shame; a whole ton shame. "She... said that?"

"Yeah, said you were being a right asshole and Teef was always cryin'."

"_What_?" I burst, my voice practically failing me. "I... I didn't... I mean—shit!"

Bastard. I'm a bastard.

"Are ya tellin' me you really didn't know?" He's cynical, and he's pissed; he should be.

I shake my head, and fix my attention to my bike if only for a reason to sever his gaze. My palms are sweating; the wrench frozen in my tensing grip. I'm just as pissed off as he is.

"You let everything in that head of yours blind ya, that's the problem. You miss what's right in front of ya."

"Yeah," I mutter, scoffing humorlessly to myself. "But Tifa... She never deserved any of it."

"No shit, she didn't. I cut ya some slack 'cause ya had the stigma, or I would have wiped the floor with ya skinny ass."

I don't reply, because what can I say? He's right. And for the next several minutes I concentrate on fixing the front wheel axel and suspension. Barret helps; as much as he can with his handicap, anyway.

"I don't know what she still sees in me..." I mumble as I bolt the fork tubes to the handlebars, pausing to wipe my brow with the back of my hand.

Barret passes me a bottle of beer. I accept it, cracking the lid and taking a large gulp as my thoughts continue to race a head of me. And over what an abject bastard I've been to her. The guilt that used to plague me over Aerith and Zack just yesterday is gone, but not with Tifa, and in a way it's infinitely worse. Even without Sephiroth magnifying it.

"She sees the same person we all see," he eventually answers after downing half his beer in a single mouthful. "The man who'll go down fightin' for his family. Even when he's off the grid complicatin' everything up with shit that's not complicated. So you gotta man-up, 'cause I don't wanna hear about you upsettin' her again. Got it?"

"Got it."

He has a way with words, Barret, and way of making you feel two inches tall.

His palm comes to rest heavily on my shoulder again; there's comfort behind it, as well as warning. "We've all been through, shit. All of us. There's no statute-a-limitations on gettin' over it, just so long as ya don't hurt the people closest to ya. Right?"

"Right."

"You even payin' attention?"

"Affirmative."

"Wise ass."

"I'm fine," I insist, because I am. With the Geostigma gone, it means no Sephiroth in my head; which means no more _emo soul_.

He snorts; it's 100% patronizing because he's not even remotely convinced. It's not as if he's just gonna take my word for it, though. Not with my track record, because even Aerith's rain couldn't cure me of my fucking habit of doubting _everything_.

I only sigh to myself and rub my forehead with rigid fingers. Something Barret doesn't miss, but then there's no getting much past him at the best of times.

"No sulkin' either. We've all lost people. You don't 'ave sole ownership on that."

"Naturally," I say dryly, but he's right. Again. I expel a conceding breath. "Thanks."

"You worry too much, spikey." He slaps my back, almost sending me reeling.

That one makes me scoff, though, because _understatement of the century_.

"What you said to Yuffie earlier? Reminded me of the good ole days when ya actually had a sense a humor. Ya just have to ditch all the heavy stuff."

"Probably." I guess that's what I'll be doing the next six months. Proving to them all that _the heavy stuff's_ gone.

Is something still true if no one believes it? I don't expect them to; I barely believe it myself. I'm so light I almost feel high, and after the last seven years it's foreign. I'm not sure I know my own mind anymore.

The damn irony.

He grabs the back of my neck this time, squeezing it out of some kind of solidarity. "Gonna head back in. Don't be usin' this hunk-a-steel as an excuse to hide away, either. I'll drag ya ass back in."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Despite his warning, though, I hold up in the garage for the rest of the day until I've got my bike roadworthy again. I need the time to get my shit together, as well. I decide I'm going to take Barret's advice because he makes too much damn sense and he knows it. And he'll never let me forget it if I don't.

Tifa keeps the bar closed tonight to celebrate... my saving the world. Again. I'm the only one absent, and I listen to their ruckus into the evening. I keep an ear out for Tifa's voice. She laughs a lot and it occurs to me that it's been far too long since I've heard her laugh. Like this anyway. It keeps me surprisingly focused; even the sound of the demon deliberately taunting me.

"COMIN' IN, CLOUD? WE LOOOOOOOOOOVE YOOOOOOU!"

It's past midnight when I'm done.

When I reenter 7th Heaven again the bar's deserted, and the apartment upstairs is as equally still; apart from the sound of Barret's snoring echoing off the walls. Only Tifa remains, quietly wiping down the counters. She doesn't immediately notice me, and I watch her for a moment as she pauses and tucks her hair behind her ear before she continues.

I clear my throat softly to make my presence known; it startles her and she jumps in her skin.

"Cloud," she says in a breathless voice, her hand coming to rest over her heart. "Come in." She holds her other arm out to me. "Do you want a drink?"

"Yeah," I answer even as my head shakes in contradiction. "Tifa..."

"Yeah? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Tifa..."

"Cloud, I'm so sorry about Yuffie," she once more breaks in, huffing to herself and sounding almost pissed off. "She's... _Yuffie_."

"Yeah. She's like the bratty little sister you didn't realize you never wanted." I smirk to myself, and she laughs lightly, nodding her head in agreement.

Despite being the most annoying person on the planet Yuffie's harmless, and even entertaining when you catch her on a good day. Plus, she's a lot more useful in a fight than she looks, but not today. "Tifa...?" I attempt a third time while her attention's fixed on the drinks she's pouring.

"Yeah?" She glances up at me, and that's when I realize; her eyes are swimming with pain. Something she can't nearly conceal, but then she never could.

"I fixed my bike." Not what I wanted to say, and with a small internal sigh I take a clumsy seat at the bar.

"Oh... That's great," she says, maintaining a neutral expression as she slides the glass in front of me. It's clearly not something she was expecting me to say either, and she's not fooling anyone.

"Yeah." I pick the glass up and down its contents in one mouthful. I need the liquid courage. "Tifa...?" The fourth time, now.

She remains opposite me behind the bar, swirling the gold liquid absently around in the glass. "Hm...?" She doesn't look up at me.

"Do you want to go on a drive tomorrow?"

This gets her attention, and her head immediately snaps up. "Oh." She smiles, it's genuine this time, and before I realize it mine's tugging in response to it. "Sure. Where to?"

"West. Somewhere on the coastline. Maybe we can stay a few days," I suggest, watching as that smile of hers broadens and her cheeks turn ruddy. I suspect she might be a few drinks short of being drunk, but it's often hard to tell with her. She can drink me under the table any day of the week.

"I'd like that, but... what about the kids?"

"Barret said he'd take care of them."

"Okay. Cloud...?"

"Yeah."

"Barret's in your bed."

"Oh. I can't take the couch," I offer. Not what I wanted to say, either.

_Please tell me I'm being silly, Teef._ I will her to say. She doesn't.

"It's up to you." She hesitates. Again. It's subtle this time, but still too obvious.

It was easy once. As easy as it can ever be with me, but it's not now. We once shared a life together, and a bed. Sex every day. At least before _I complicated shit up._ When I let myself breathe instead of think. The calm before the storm in between being battle wearied and glad you survived and then getting psychologically fucked by a whole shit ton of survivor's guilt. Survivor's guilt that preceded flashbacks that could come at a moment's notice at any time of the day or night and completely wipe you out. The worst kind of flashbacks. Aerith's heart exploding as Sephiroth's Masamune severed it in half. Zack's visible brain still pulsating as he drowned in his own blood. His blood, Aerith's, mine, and death everywhere. And Sephiroth finding his way back into my mind through the stigma; twisting all my damn memories, good or bad, until my heart and soul were twisting with them. He knew my weaknesses, and the bastard exploited every damn one of them.

"Unless..." I add after her hesitation is replaced with a frown. It's not as subtle and I can't stand it. Barret's right; I have to _man-up._

Her eyes immediately pull back to mine and spark with an emotion I want to believe is hope. "Unless?"

"Would you mind if I slept in your bed with you?"

Her frown fades as quickly as it came until she's smiling up at me, all sunny, and all Tifa. "I wouldn't mind."

I smile with her, sliding off the bar stool when she offers me her hand.

"Are you tired?" I ask as she pulls me toward the stairs.

"_Exhausted_."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey to the 13 people reading. I hope you enjoy chapter 3 :D**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Cloud**

Tifa strips down to a pair of black underwear and a singlet similar to the one she wore to bed last night. She then does something that I have never been able to wrap my head around; she removes her bra without taking that top off.

"Are you all right?" she asks, turning to glance at me over her shoulder; no doubt noticing I'm still standing in the middle of the room trying not to make it obvious that I'm watching her.

I've kicked off my boots, but that's about it.

"I'm fine," I mumble, turning my head and running my palm to the back of my neck to sever her knowing gaze. And mine from that body of hers.

"I still have a pair of your pajama pants..." She motions to the chest of drawers opposite the bed in emphasis, and I nod.

"Thank you." Awkward. It's still so awkward. I mean, it sort of always was, but never to this extent. Once I could scoop her up in my arms and jump in bed with her without a second thought.

That's what got in the way, though. My thoughts.

After rummaging around in the second-to-top drawer, she pulls out the blue and white cotton pajama bottoms and holds them out to me.

"Here you go," she offers lightly, but her cheeks give her away. They flush and almost match the shade of her eyes. Red eyes; they've always been synonymous with evil, but not Tifa's.

"Thanks," I reply, my eyes resting on my belt. I unbuckle it and yank my pants off before pulling my legs into the pajamas. I'm conscious of my body's reaction to her, willing it to stay calm and under control, but it has a mind of its own. It always has in her half-naked presence; or fully clothed for that matter. I'd really like to let it free, but I can't. Not with Barret across the hall and while sharing a common wall with the kids' room. And Yuffie and Vince damn knows where.

I put the question to her a moment later, and she laughs.

"They left to stay at Yuffie's, I think. Or maybe where ever Vince stays. I'm not sure. Cid's staying in the airship."

I nod and smile to myself, even as my eyes remain fixed to my bare feet against the worn hard wood floors. Grabbing my shirt, I pull it off my back just as Tifa hits the lights.

I shuffle in the bed beside her in agony and harder than my sword. She's being careful with me I quickly notice. Careful not to press her body too much against mine, or even touch me. But she sighs a lot, as well, as if she really wants to.

I want her to.

"Teef," I speak up, just as she does with my name.

"You first," her soft voice speaks into the semi darkness.

"I just wanted to... to thank you. For understanding," I say, staring up at the ceiling and clearing the stiffness from my throat.

"You don't have to thank me, Cloud," she assures me, and while I can't see her smile I can hear it in her voice.

"Yeah, I do. It's not that I didn't want to be here..." I mumble, rolling my head to face her. A sparse amount of light is filtering in from the street outside, but it's not as if I need it. Not with my eyes. Mako gives you perfect night vision, and chronic insomnia as a result. Tifa's face is silhouetted more beautiful than it usually is. It almost causes me to pause, and I wonder whether she was always this beautiful. "I just...I didn't want you to...have to watch me die."

"I understand that. I do." Her voice softens more and she shifts against me.

"Are you uncomfortable?" I ask, edging further to the side of the bed to give her more room.

"I'm fine," she insists, her hand flying out to stop me almost, but I'm not sure. "Cloud..."

"Yeah?"

"You can relax. It's okay."

"...It's just. I...don't feel like I deserve to be here."

"Why would you say that?" She sounds genuinely surprised, but that's Tifa for you. Too damn good for my skinny ass.

"Because it's true."

"It's _not_ true." She's insistent, turning on her side to fully face me. Her expression is pained and maybe a little frustrated. "I want you here. We all do. I...I missed you so much when you were gone," she adds when I don't immediately reply.

"...I missed you, too," I admit ashamedly because I'm not sure I deserve the luxury of telling her that, either.

"Cloud...?" Her voice breaks this time, and I immediately tense.

"Yeah?"

"...Will you hold me?"

I don't hesitate. After stretching out my arm to her, she pulls herself up and against me; lying her head to my chest.

"Teef...?" I murmur after a moment of acclimatizing myself to the feel of her in my arms. It's always amazed me that this woman, who could kick my ass up and down the street any time she wanted, is just as equally soft and vulnerable. But I've been blind to a lot of things.

"Yeah?"

"I...I don't want to hurt you again." I feel okay, but that's the thing; I felt okay in the beginning, as well. _Okay_ can quickly turn to shit, though. We're both aware of that.

"You need to stop worrying. There's no guarantees, Cloud. There just isn't."

"Yeah, I know..." I mumble conceding, because don't I know it. "Sorry."

She nudges me playfully with her shoulder. "Silly. There's nothing to be sorry about."

"There is. I...abandoned you."

"No, you didn't," she immediately counters, but she's always been on my side. Always.

"I just...want to get back to normal. The problem is I don't remember what normal feels like anymore." Or ever.

"Hm..." she murmurs as if she's reflecting on it. "Normal is subjective though. What's normal for us isn't for others."

"Yeah. That's true."

"Tell me what your normal is?" She turns her head, resting her chin to my chest and gazing up at me.

"You."

Her smile broadens and becomes toothy. It's rare for her. "Cloud," she teases me lightly before I continue.

"I mean, you and me after...Meteor..." I don't finish. Those memories tend to conjure up more than I'm willing to recall.

She hums again. "It was hard for me, too—finding that sense of normalcy after. Everything was still so..._raw_."

"Raw..." I mumble more or less to myself. She's good with words, Tifa, and she's always been able to articulate what I often fail to. I have no idea how she can read me so easily.

"How about we take one day at a time?" she ventures.

I nod once and rest my lips to the top of her head. One day at a time... "Yeah."

She falls asleep first. It's obvious when she does. Her body slackens and becomes limp in my arms; her breathing deep and even. I follow several hours later. I don't need a lot of sleep; a few hours a night depending on how much damage I've taken on. I slept at least six the night before. I think it's the most I've slept in seven years. Tonight I sleep maybe three, sans nightmares again. I doze more than anything, mainly because I remain conscious of her closeness all night. It's starting to drive me crazy; I have to rectify it and fast.

**. . .**

We leave at dawn the next morning. Barret and the kids see us off. Barret with a shrewd grin pulling wide; the kids with over-animated expressions. Marlene jumps up and down as if she can't contain her excitement. I smile to myself before I'm aware of it, but it's hard to meet her astute gaze; not with what she's witnessed. Of me hurting Tifa, the closest thing she has in the world to a mother.

Tifa hugs them repeatedly, promising to bring them both back souvenirs. Denzel blushes and discreetly meets my gaze, because he knows I understand him. He doesn't see Tifa as a mother; not with his parents still a very recent memory. To him she's more of an older sister. One he looks up to—more than he does me.

"See ya, Cloud," he says to me, straightening his back. I'm a long shot off being a father-figure. Like Tifa, to Denzel I'm more of an older brother. An older brother he's not as close to as he wants to be, but one he still admires.

Another thing I don't deserve.

Kids are easy to please and hard to disappoint; that's what I've learned from both of them. They don't want much from me; just my presence. My time.

"Ya better get goin', eh, spikey," Barret says, ushering Tifa forward after she stretches on her toes to plant her lips to his cheek.

"Don't let them stay up too late, and go easy on the sugar," she repeats her mantra to him; he only chuckles.

"No worryin', Teef. I got this."

I straddle my bike and hit the engine as Tifa climbs on behind me. Then turning in the seat to face her, I hand her the helmet I've never needed to wear; helping her fasten it beneath her chin.

"Ready?" I put to her.

She smiles, looking more damn happy than I've seen her in a long while. "Ready."

"Have fun!" Marlene bursts.

I turn to her and wink, then nodding to Denzel and then Barret, I secure my goggles over my eyes and set off.

There's a lot of crime around the outskirts of Midgar; something I've encountered on several occasions. The black SOLDIER uniform tends to be a deterrent, though, but if that doesn't work, one look at my sword does the trick.

Until the remnants came, I rarely had to use it. It was a safeguard more than anything. A SOLDIER's sword is part of their rank; their honor. An ancient art they learned to fight with in an age where weapons have advanced beyond them.

I couldn't tell you where or how I learned to use one. As a grunt my only weapon was a rifle, and even though I initially adopted Zack's battle style, I only witnessed him use the buster sword a handful of times. I guess, your subconscious is a powerful thing.

I might not have made SOLDIER, but I still rely on my sword. When I don't have it on me I feel almost naked, and I'm not about to chance being with Tifa without it. No matter how well she can take care of herself.

My sword's packed in the side compartment of my bike where it always is, but I've ditched the SOLDIER uniform. It's the first time in more than two years that I haven't worn some form of it.

It's all for pretenses, anyway. The SOLDIER program is no more, and it's not as if I need armor. My enhanced body is its own protection, and I only wore the pauldron to hide my stigma.

At the same time, I want to start fresh with no reminders of the past. It was Zack who dressed me in the uniform in the first place, and it was because of Zack that I kept wearing it. If we're ever forced into battle again, I'll put it back on, but right now, with me and Tifa, I don't need it. I don't want her to look at me and see who I once thought I was, or who I was when I left her.

We pass through the wasteland without incident, but even without the uniform, my bike is well known and recognized. If anyone had tried anything with Tifa with me, though, I wouldn't have taken any prisoners.

Once we hit open road, Tifa relaxes against me. She keeps her arms tight around my waist, her head against my back, and more than once, I release one of my hands from the handles to cover hers. It's something I do without thought, but Tifa quickly makes me conscious of it. In response, she kisses the back of my neck.

The first time I almost ran us off the road. She only laughed and squeezed her arms tighter around me while I fought to keep myself calm. It's only been six months since I lived with her, but in those six months I've lost everything I gained and more.

It's just over two hours when I catch the first glimpse of the ocean and the scent of the sea on the breeze. I drive for a further few miles along the coastline and down the vertical cliffs to where the shore is spread out before us. I eventually pull to a stop by a stretch of beach at least a mile in length. In the distance is a small coastal town; somewhere we can eat. Or sleep if the weather turns bad.

I kick out my bike's stand as Tifa climbs from behind me and stretches her arms above her head. After pulling my goggles from my face I glance over at her smile.

She returns it before turning to stare out over the horizon. "The air is so fresh," she remarks, inhaling deeply and closing her eyes.

"Yeah," I agree; it's a welcome relief from the pollution surrounding Edge. "Do, you want to get breakfast?"

"Not yet. Let's walk along the beach for a while," she suggests.

"All right," I reply climbing off my bike and taking the hand she offers.

She pulls me after her, down to the sand where she kicks off her shoes, and following her lead, I do the same.

"Look how pale your feet are," she teases me, kneeling down before me to roll my jeans up over my ankles.

I only smile to myself, and more so when she drags me into the shallows where the waves wash over my _pale feet_.

We walk almost the entire length of beach; sometimes through the water while leaving our footprints imbedded in the wet sand behind us. Tifa keeps her hand clutched around mine as the offshore wind carries her hair over her face, and mine. I don't mind though; it gives her an excuse to wipe it from me, and it's been too damn long since I've felt her fingers against my skin like this.

Tifa often alternates between being cheerful and reserved, and right now she's quiet. But it's a comfortable quiet. We've never really needed words, and damn knows I'm not a huge talker. It's never been Tifa who's made things awkward between us, though. That was all on me. At the same time, she understands my silence and doesn't bring it to my attention. Sometimes I think she tip-toes around me too much; scared she'll say the wrong thing and push me further away. I hate that she takes everything upon herself. She shoulders my load as well as hers.

Barret's been right all along. Tifa's been carrying me this whole time.

What kind of man am I?

"Let's sit down for a while," I propose when we reach a collection of rock formations that rise into the cliff face.

"All right," she obliges me, and dropping her shoes to the sand she props herself on a large pile of sandstone; pulling her knees to her chest.

I sit beside her and stare down at my feet for a moment, sinking into the sand beneath them. "Tifa..."

"Yeah?"

I turn to face her, meeting those eyes of hers that are flooding with so much uncertainty. "I...I want to be with you."

The smile immediately returns to her lips and she takes my hand again in both of hers. "I want to be with you, too."

"...But..."

"But...?" she softly echoes as her smile quickly fades.

"I...I'm not sure I can give you children," I admit, severing her gaze again.

"What...?" she utters, sounding confused. "Cloud, I..."

"I was experimented on, Teef. I had Jenova cells injected into me, mutating my DNA..." I attempt to explain when she shakes her head.

"Cloud..."

"I just want you to be aware of what you'll be getting into."

"Cloud..." she repeats with a small smile. It's the only time I like my name; when she speaks it. "To be honest...I'm not sure if I can, either."

"Huh?" I ask, surprised. Actually, I'm gob-smacked. "Why...?"

"What happened at the Nibel Reactor, when Sephiroth..." she doesn't elaborate, but then she doesn't have to. "I woke up in hospital in Midgar and the doctor hinted that I might not..."

"Ah, shit, Teef," I mumble, curving my arm around her shoulders and pulling her to me. "I'm sorry," I whisper, dropping my face to the top of her head. "I promised to protect you."

"You did, silly," she reminds me, and it's obvious she's struggling to hold back tears. "Remember?"

"I didn't do a very good job..." I mutter. In truth, I completely failed her, but then it was always her who's taken care of me. Of everyone.

"If it wasn't for you he...would have killed us all."

I release a weary breath. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I guess I...didn't want to ruin anything between us." Her voice wavers and then completely breaks before she bows her head.

"I was the one who ruined things between us," I insist, turning to her to wipe her tears dry. "You've never done anything but hold me up."

"Cloud..." she says, shaking her head once to herself and wiping clumsily at her face. "You have to stop doing that."

"...Doing what?"

"Running yourself down all the time. I've always thought you were...amazing," she whispers, leaning further against me.

"You're the one who's amazing." I tighten my arms around her and plant my lips to her temple. "But it makes sense now..."

"What makes sense?"

"How...careless we both often were. You never got pregnant."

"Did you want me to?" she asks in a small voice.

"God, no," I answer a little too abruptly.

"_What..._?" she utters, sounding as if she's in disbelief.

"I mean, things weren't going well, and...I fucked it all up." In good conscience, I couldn't be responsible for bringing another kid into the world. Not where my head was. There was no way I was going to screw up another innocent person in all of this.

Plus, what if we created another Sephiroth?

"You didn't, but I understand," she mumbles, and she's hurt. As much as she often holds her feelings in, it's still too obvious when she's hurt, and I need to man-up about it.

"I never meant to hurt you."

She draws her breath as if she means to argue, but lets it go. "I know you didn't."

"I'm sorry, Teef—I mean, I'm _really _sorry."

"Cloud, it's _all right_."

But it's not all right. Not even a little bit. "Hey?"

"Yeah?" She turns to face me, her eyes still overrun by so much pain.

"I..." I abandon it, and cupping my palm to the side of her face I kiss her. It's only brief before I press my lips to her brow. "It doesn't make a difference to me," I murmur against her hair, and I need her to know that.

"It doesn't make a difference to me, either—what Hojo did to you." She pulls fractionally back to meet my gaze. "But who else could there possibly be for me other than you?"

"No one."

**. . .**

After dusting sand from our feet and putting our shoes back on, I mount my bike. Tifa pulls herself up behind me, and we ride the half mile to the sea-side town. A single inn is situated in the middle of the village off a cobblestone square. I park out front and help Tifa down before opening the compartment of my bike to grab the six linking blades of my sword; connecting them together.

"You don't really need that, do you?" Tifa ventures after taking my free hand.

"You can never be too careful," I reply with a quick grin, swinging it over my shoulder into the harness strapped to my back.

The town is populated by roughly a thousand souls, and the morning inn is busy. As Tifa and I enter, a hush falls over those inside before they all turn to stare at us with varying degrees of apprehension.

I'm immediately recognized. Recognized as a member—or former member—of SOLDIER. It's not my sword that gives me away, or the numerous times I've passed through this village on deliveries, but my eyes. They burn with the unmistakable hue of Mako. I'm aware of how unnerving they are; I've caught my own reflection too many times not to be. Few people will maintain eye contact with me for longer than a second or two. It's human nature to instinctively recoil from something so unnatural and SOLDIERs were intended to be intimidating. This is despite their reputation that preceded them all over Gaia.

A middle-aged man is standing behind the bar, both palms flat to the counter-top that he's leaning slightly into. He throws both Tifa and I a welcoming grin, appearing more at ease than his patrons; until he clears his throat, unable to conceal his nervousness.

"What can I get you good folks?" he asks with an obvious edge to his voice.

"Breakfast for two," Tifa answers, flashing him a warm smile.

"Take a seat." He motions to an empty booth in the back of the room.

We're followed by a young waitress who takes our order. Her hand shakes as she puts pen to paper, before she disappears through a swinging door that I assume leads to the kitchen.

"We should have ordered to go," I mumble, shifting uncomfortably in my seat opposite Tifa. Conversation around us has dulled to a low murmur, with numerous sets of eyes flicking nervously back and forth between the two of us.

"It's fine," she assures me, reaching out across the table to grab my hand.

I turn to glance over my shoulder, scanning the room. My senses are on guard and my fingers itch to grab the hilt of my sword. Something's definitely...off. Something has the diners spooked; something other than me.

"Cloud, what is it?" Tifa asks in confusion, when my eyes briefly meet those of a man huddled at the far corner of the bar. He severs them almost immediately, turning further from me as his hand reaches inside his jacket.

That's when I catch the glimmer of silver. I'm out of my seat in an instant, pulling my sword from the halter in the same motion.

"Tifa, stay down!" I order her when she moves to follow me, my eyes not deviating from the greasy-haired male who's aware he's been caught.

Drawing his weapon, he fires several shots at me as the people in the bar immediately scramble for cover. I deflect them easily; the bullets ricochet off my sword and imbed deeply in the lime-washed walls. Then detaching a second blade from my base sword, I advance on him.

He breaks to hastily reload his gun, but with his attention fixed on me, he fails to notice Tifa approaching from the side. She leaps in the air, the heel of her shoe impacting with his jaw as that all too familiar reflexive battle sound bursts from her. He immediately slumps heavily to the floor unconscious, as the bartender cautiously raises his head over the counter.

"Is he?—thank you so much!" he declares, relief flooding his voice. "This is the fourth time he's robbed us."

"No problem," I reply, sliding my sword back into the harness before roughly hauling the blacked-out thug to his feet by the scruff of his collar.

I hand him over to several of the town's men, who disarm him and hogtie his hands and feet in the main square as they wait for Shinra police.

"Hey, your wife's quite a lady," the bartender comments after I reenter the inn.

"Wife...?" I echo when I realize his meaning. Tifa still wears the wolf ring I gave her not long after we started living together. She's never taken it off. I planned on giving her an engagement ring, but at the time, I didn't have the gil to buy her one. It was meant to be a substitute until I could get her the real deal, but then I let my shit get in the way of everything. I glance over my shoulder, searching for her; she's returned to the booth at the rear of the room. When her eyes meet mine, she smiles brightly and motions me over to her. "Yeah, she is," I add, turning to make my way toward her.

"Why is it that trouble always seems to find us?" she asks lightly when I slide in opposite her.

"I don't know, but if you ever find out, fill me in," I say wryly. "Tifa...?"

"Yeah?"

"I was handling it," I say, the tone of my voice dropping seriously.

She pauses for a moment before quirking a dubious brow. "Cloud..."

"What if you got hurt?" I blurt out before I can stop myself. The adrenalin's beginning to wear off and it's left me feeling wired and on edge.

"Good grief, don't tell me you're going to start treating me like I'm a damsel in distress?"

"Tifa..." I begin when she cuts me off.

"Cloud, I was taught how to take advantage of a situation. His attention was on _you_."

"It doesn't matter. You were almost killed the other day!"

"So were you!" she immediately points out, and I huff.

"Teef!"

"S_top_!" she appeals to me, her eyes wide and pleading. "Just...stop. You can't live like that—in fear. You just can't."

"I... Damn..." I mutter, folding my arms across the table and dropping my gaze to them. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry, but you can't wrap me in cotton wool, either." She sighs as if I'm exhausting her. I probably am.

"Yeah."

"Cloud..."

"It might...take a while..." I admit, expelling a frustrated breath.

"We can work on it together," she suggests, her voice gentle, and when I glance back up at her, she smiles again. It's the way she often smiles at me; with optimism. Something I've always lacked.

I return it awkwardly and nod, but I really would like to wrap her up in cotton wool. If not for me, then for everyone else who needs her. Mostly for me, though, because I can't lose her like I did Zack. Not Tifa; it would completely destroy me and there'd be no coming back from it.

She's the light to my darkness. She always has been.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hope you enjoy :)**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Cloud**

We sleep out under the stars on the grasslands about a mile and a half east. Tifa packed a single sleeping bag and a bottle of tequila. She's obviously thinking the same thing I am; how to get over all this awkward crap. I swear her eyes are a crystal ball into my soul. She just _gets_ me—so damn easily. As for me. Well, I've always been completely clueless when it comes to her.

Maybe because I've always known she's too good for me.

Tequila... It's what she resorted to once before, after several attempts to seduce me failed. Actually, they didn't fail, they crashed and burned. It was not long after we started living together with Barret and Marlene on top of 7th Heaven. We were both there, right on the edge—so many times—but I was having trouble taking that final leap. I have no idea why; it's not as if I didn't want that body as if my life depended on it, or anything.

I guess it was the idea that I'd end up losing her as well and was subconsciously attempting to keep myself detached.

Whatever it was, it wasn't always me who fucked it up, though. Barret walked in on us once. He made a huge show of it, covering his eyes, and practically yelling to everyone in Edge what was going on. And if that wasn't bad enough, then it was Marlene. She woke up with a stomach ache, only to proceed to throw up all over the floor. Tifa's attention was immediately diverted and sex was suddenly the last thing on my mind. I almost ended up with my head down the toilet with her.

The longer it didn't happen the more panicked I started to feel, and the more awkward it became until I started to think it just wasn't meant to be.

Then one night, after Barret left to meet up with a few guys in Kalm for some business venture he was looking into, Tifa dragged me into the bar and got me drunk. The next thing I recall is stumbling blindly up the stairs to her room with her in my arms, kissing her clumsily while attempting to yank her clothes over her head.

It was the ice-breaker I needed, and after that it was as easy as it will ever be for me. Especially considering I moved from my room to hers, as well as her habit of sleeping half naked every night. Apart of me continued to feel awkward though. I've never felt completely comfortable in my SOLDIER-enhanced body. Or in hers, for that matter, but my head's always had a habit of being ten miles ahead of the rest of me. I don't know how Tifa puts up with me; how I haven't driven her crazy.

"Cloud," she speaks up softly, bottle of tequila in hand.

I turn to face her. We're sitting beside each other on a picnic blanket; the sleeping bag already rolled out a foot away, waiting. "Yeah?"

"Remember after...my mother died...?" She pauses, her eyes falling to her lap, her brows knotting.

I observe her for a moment. We don't often talk about the past. Actually we don't talk about it, period. It represents too much shit that neither one of us want to be reminded of. For my part, I was always scared it would shatter the illusion of happiness we created after Meteor, and while Tifa never said anything it was obvious she was worried about the same thing. It was inevitable though, but we held onto it as long as we could.

"Yeah...?"

"After you...changed. You started getting into fights with the boys in town..." Her voice trails off as if there's more she wants to say, but doesn't.

"Yeah," I repeat as an answer this time.

"Why?" She glances up and catches my gaze again.

I shrug and turn my attention to the blades of grass beneath the blanket; pulling several out in my fist. "Everyone blamed me for what happened to you. No one believed me, and...it made me pretty angry." It pissed me off is what it did.

"I believed you," she says with a smile, but there's still something vulnerable about her expression.

"I know you did," I acknowledge; she was the only one.

"Did you really?"

"Of course I did," I promise her. "You were never like the other kids, Teef. You only ever saw the good in people."

She blushes, her eyes turning downcast again, and clearing her throat awkwardly, she pours two shot glasses with tequila and offers me one.

"What shall we drink to?" she asks.

"Um..."

"New beginnings?" she ventures before I can answer.

"Yeah. New beginnings."

Her smile momentarily broadens, and she chinks her small glass to mine before bringing it to her lips. I watch as she pours the alcohol into her mouth and swallows in one go; only to then suck it from her fingers where it had spilled over.

It's agonizing, and more so when I realize she's noticed me watching her. Hastily breaking her gaze, I throw the shot glass back and try not to choke.

"Another one?" she offers.

"Yeah," I answer in a restricted voice, holding the glass out for her to fill again.

The second round goes down a lot smoother as the amassing warmth steadily spreads out from my stomach to my limbs. I release my breath with a gush; my shoulders fall with it. Yeah, this girl gets me; she always knows exactly what I need.

"Feel better?" she asks.

"Yeah." It's the truth. I do. "Tifa...?" I ask after she pours a third round. Damn, she must really want to get me plastered, but by this rate I won't remember anything by morning.

"Yeah?" she glances up at me, taking the empty glass from me and replacing it with the one she just filled.

"I'm sorry about this morning," I admit.

"You don't have to be sorry," she assures me, nudging her shoulder playfully to mine.

"Sephiroth was back in head..." I attempt to explain, but shaking my head, I abandon it. It sounds like a copout. He couldn't have got in my head if I didn't let him. The truth is, he might be gone now, but it'll never dull the fear that what I witnessed him do to Aerith could one day happen to Tifa.

"I know..." Tifa. She's too understanding, and too willing to overlook and justify my bullshit.

"I just wish I was...stronger..." I throw the glass back and swallow before glancing up to Tifa's astonished face.

"_Stronger_?" she echoes, the pitch of her voice rising with equal portions of disbelief and confusion. "Cloud, if you were any stronger you'd bring the bar down on top of all of us."

I almost smile because here she is again refusing to see any of my flaws. I wonder if she knows how much I love her. Not hard to guess that answer. "I mean _mentally_," I mumble, clumsily handing her back the glass, my eyes on my feet.

"Who says you're not?" she asks. Her confusion is growing and she's three seconds from telling me I don't realize how amazing I am. I don't want to hear it.

"Because I'm not."

"Oh, Cloud..."

"Teef."

"Cloud, look at me." I do. She grabs my hand; her gaze steady on mine. "You have overcome _every_ obstacle you've faced. Every one of them—even the ones that were supposed to kill you. You're the _epitome_ of strength. You just don't realize how much."

"I should be telling you that. It shouldn't be you propping me up all the time—don't you get tired of it?" I'm suddenly frustrated, at myself, but it's obvious Tifa thinks it's directed at her because it surprises her, and maybe it hurts her too.

"Tired of what?" she asks quietly.

"My bullshit."

She shakes her head without hesitation. "We all went through a lot. You just dealt with it in your way."

"My way..." I echo bitterly.

"Cloud, you're slipping back."

"...Slipping back?" I question, unsure of her meaning.

"To the past. It's done and we can't change it. There's no point in dwelling on it."

I shake my head again. "I don't. I mean...I just can't fucking stand what I've done to you."

"What have you done to me?"

"I...I hurt you."

"Yeah, okay, you hurt me," she admits, sounding almost impatient, "but you're here now, aren't you?"

"Yeah..." I release a conceding breath and drag my fingers roughly back through my hair. "Just tell me how I can make it up to you."

"You can make it up to me by not torturing yourself over it anymore."

"You gotta give me something more concrete than that."

"...What do you mean?"

"I left because I didn't want to hurt you and I ended up hurting you even more. I have to...do something about it." I grab another fistful of grass and tear it from its roots in continued frustration.

"You already are." She grabs my hand again, to stop me from ripping up the entire hillside this time. "We're starting over fresh, remember? New beginnings?"

I stare into her eyes for a moment, seeing the pain swelling within them that she'll never admit to. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"...Tell you...what?" she's confused; her head tilting against it.

"You just smiled and let me walk out the door, and then I had Barret almost bringing the church down around me in a blind rage over how much I hurt you."

"Because...I had to let you go," she murmurs. Her voice wavers and she drops her eyes to the shot glass she's still gripping in her hand. "Cloud..."

"I didn't want you to, Teef. I wanted you to get pissed at me and tell me to stop being such a coward."

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I...have a habit..." Biting her lower lip she glances away.

I watch her for a moment, losing herself in whatever it is she refuses to let me be a part of.

"You have to promise me something."

She looks up at me again and pauses. "Promise you what?"

"Don't hold it in anymore."

"...Hold what in?" She sounds almost fearful, and I think maybe she is. I have no idea how such a strong, beautiful woman can harbor these insecurities.

"Your pain. If I hurt you, tell me, because I'm so..._bad_ at reading your cues. You never tell me what you're feeling."

She smiles and there's something sad about it, and maybe something ironic, as well. "You never tell me what you're thinking."

I scoff dryly. "If I could make sense of it, I would."

"Cloud..." There's a tremor to her voice as if she's on the verge of tears.

"What are you feeling?—tell me what you're feeling." I sound a little too desperate.

"About what?" she asks reluctantly.

"Me."

"You know how I feel about you."

"Tell me anyway." Reaching out I grab her hand and pull her closer to me. The last few minutes she's been inching back, and I'm not sure whether it's subconscious or not, but right now it feels like there's a canyon between us.

"I love you," her voice catches and those tears she's been trying to hold off spill silently down her cheeks, "and I'm scared I'll push you away again."

"You didn't push me away in the first place."

She shakes her head and hastily wipes her face dry, but she doesn't believe me. That much is obvious. "Still..."

"Teef."

"Tell me what you're thinking."

"...I'm thinking...that I'm a bastard and I don't deserve you. And...maybe one day you'll realize that."

"That will never happen." She almost laughs, but right now those tears have got hold of her. "Cloud...?"

"Yeah?" I bring my fingers to her face, catching the last of them.

"Do...you love me, too?"

I meet her eyes; they're wide and way too vulnerable. This is what I bring out in her. Time and time again. "Was there ever a time I didn't?"

She utters out an impulsive sound. It's almost a laugh if it wasn't flooded with so much emotion. "And you say you're not good with words."

I smile and lean slightly toward her, then hastily pulling herself together and breaking my gaze, she pours a fourth shot.

"One more," she whispers, placing it in my hand.

"One more..." I mumble. We drink it together, but the fourth one is what does it; the world starts to slant and I'm so relaxed I feel as if my bones are turning to rubber.

I start laughing, at everything, but her mostly. In return Tifa is a lot more hands on and my eyes are fixing too many times to her chest. I try to recall the last time I saw what's behind her shirt. I can't remember how long it's been but I remember what she looks like; her white flesh and how soft and supple she is.

Tifa notices where my attention lies, and with very deliberately movements she unzips her top, leaving only her singlet and bra.

"So...hot..." I utter. The words leaving my lips without any consciousness on my part, and for a few agonizing seconds I'm unaware that I spoke it out loud.

"...The weather...?" Tifa questions in a whisper.

"You..." I'm drunk; it's a definite this time, but I'm still stalling. I'm on the edge of a cliff afraid I'll fall, but too much of a pussy to jump. And Tifa knows; she gets it.

She pours a fifth. I pass out cold against her.

**. . .**

Alcohol always affects me badly; it's the one weakness a SOLDIER has. They had the reputation of being alcoholics back in the day, but the truth is, their bodies just don't metabolize liquor very well. Zack had a theory that there was no alcohol on Jenova's home planet so she had no built up immunity; making us all suffer.

Zack got plastered the night before Sephiroth torched Nibelheim; I thought he was a lightweight; until the first time I drank it after.

Like Mako, I react adversely to it. My mind's always the first to shut off and my body quickly follows. The one consolation? My sleep is always dreamless.

Tonight, though, Tifa's isn't.

I've been so wrapped up in my own bullshit, my own pain, that I completely overlooked everyone else's. I guess because Tifa always seems so strong it didn't occur to me that she was fighting her own demons. Pretty naïve of me.

I wake to the soft whimpering sounds of her in the middle of a nightmare. It's the dead of night and she's against me, semi-naked in the sleeping bag. I don't recall when or how I got here but with Tifa's unconscious body draped over me I realize I'm not just overheated, but sweltering.

I'm almost slipping against her as her tense body twitches sporadically; her muffled cries growing slowly louder.

"Teef..." I say softly against her hair, attempting to console her and running my hands up and down her forearms.

"Cloud..." she mumbles as the warmth of her breath gushes from her lungs and washes over me. "Don't let me fall..." She's still trapped in it, and grabbing the front of my shirt with both fists she practically pulls me on top of her.

"I won't let you fall..." I promise her, curling my arms tighter around her.

"I...I...I... Cloud..." From beneath her long, dark lashes, tears begin to spill.

I wipe them away as hastily as they fall, anxious by them; of seeing her so vulnerable even when she's in my arms. "Tifa..."

Her breath shudders and with a start she's awake and staring vacantly at me, blinking repeatedly. "Cloud, I... Was I having a nightmare?" she wonders, her voice croaky, before shaking her head to herself as if to collect her thoughts.

"It sounded like it." I turn my head to glance at the sky; the moon is high and full, and the first signs of dawn are still several hours away, but I'm restless. "Are you okay?"

She nods, looking distracted, and she doesn't let go of her iron grip on me.

"Do...you want to go for a walk or something?" I suggest, attempting to slide my hand between the two of us. She's flush against me and it's torture. What makes it worse is my mind appears incapable of anything other than the sensation of her beside me.

She nods, and releasing me she clumsily wipes her face dry. "All right."

I help her to her feet; steadying her as she sways and almost falls against me. Again she's only wearing her underwear and the same singlet top she wore beneath her vest. I'm fully clothed, but my black jeans are beltless and loose around my hips.

As Tifa shuffles into her skirt, I shove my feet into my boots, and without waiting for her to offer it, I take her hand. In silence, we head back toward the sandstone cliffs overlooking the ocean. I'm the first to break it; which usually isn't like me, but I'm sticking to Barret's advice.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"...About...?" She looks up at me, her eyes glistening with confusion.

"Your nightmare."

"Oh..." She turns back, her lower lips ensnaring between her teeth again. "It was just a dream."

"How often...do you have them?" I ask; though, I'm not sure I want to know. I don't want further proof of how much of a self-centered jerk I've been. Further proof of how much I've neglected her.

She half shrugs as if dismissing it. "Every now and then. Not too often." She's attempting to downplay it again; it's so obvious to me now.

"Teef..." I squeeze her gently and stop, angling her to face me.

"Hm...?"

"You're doing it again." I use her words from earlier.

"I... What?"

"You're not telling me how you feel."

She frowns and for several seconds she appears to wrestle with her thoughts. "Sometimes I just...relive it, that's all."

"Yeah. I know..." Don't I damn well know it?

She doesn't want to talk about it; another thing that's obvious. Maybe I always could read her cues, but was just unable to get past my own pain to see hers. She's been hurting too, but with that smile plastered across her face, she pushed it back and kept everything running smoothly; the kids, the bar, AVALANCHE, my delivery service... All the while I hauled ass and shacked up on the floor of a church with my days and nights occupied by self-pity.

I still can't reconcile what she sees in me or how she can forgive me, and if I live to be a hundred years old I will never deserve her. At the same time, I know if I let guilt get the better of me again, I'll only wind up in another cycle of bullshit where I'll abandon my family to rotting wood and disease.

I swore my days of being a weak-minded grunt were over and it's a promise I'm going to keep.

No more _complicating everything up with shit that's not complicated_.

"What about you? Still having nightmares?" she asks, her tone lighter this time.

"Sometimes..." I mumble. Every. Damn. Night.

"Hmm..." She flashes me a small smile. She can see straight through me, though; she knows I'm bullshitting. "Cloud...?" Her voice softens.

"Yeah?"

"Do you still want something concrete?" Her eyes appear suddenly endless in the moonlight before she breaks them from mine.

"Concrete...?" I begin when I realize her meaning. "Of course I do."

"Then..." She locks her gaze to the ground and keeps it there.

"Then...?" I coax her to continue.

"Remember when I said you don't need words to show someone how you feel?" She looks up almost reluctantly, and in an instant I'm awake. And sober.

"Yeah, I remember." My voice catches and I'm forced to clear it roughly. As if I could ever forget.

"It still applies," she whispers. "Cloud...?"

I lean closer to her, almost subconsciously, before catching myself. "Y-yeah?" I stammer.

"What's going on?" I shake my head and open my mouth to convey my confusion when she continues, "I'm not sure whether you're tip-toeing around me, or if I'm tip-toeing around you."

"It's me..." I acknowledge with a sigh. "I don't... I..."

"Do you want me?" There's pain in the timbre of her voice, and rejection. I've heard it before, and I can't stand it.

I stop walking again and raise my palm to her cheekbone. "There's no one else I've ever wanted."

"Then... why...?"

I shake my head, frustrated at myself. "I don't...want you to let me fall, either, Teef... I..."

"Cloud..."

"I'm just so..." Releasing my hand from her, I press the heel of it against my eyes. "I mean, I'm not sure...how to be happy..." I huff, because I'm not sure what the hell I even mean, let alone how to express it. I just can't ever imagine Gaia remaining peaceful long enough for me to let my guard down enough to relax with her. To experience..._normal_.

"New beginnings right?" she reminds me, a-way-too vulnerable smiling creeping on her lips.

"Right."

"We're taking it a day at a time, remember?" Her tone lightens, her smile inching broader.

I nod, smiling in return. "Yeah."

"Cloud...?" There's something teasing in her voice this time.

"Hmm?"

"You just have a habit of over-thinking everything."

I laugh dryly, but with a bitter edge to it. "Yeah," I mutter. Story of my life.

"That expression on your face though..." she muses. "The one you get when you're deep in thought. You have no idea how appealing it makes you."

"Erm..."

"Yuffie thinks it just makes you look _emo_, but it doesn't."

"Teef..." I mumble awkwardly, running my palm to the back of my neck.

"What do we need to do to break the ice?—since alcohol was an abysmal failure," she puts to me ruefully.

"Um... I don't..."

"Should I just say it, Mr. Man-of-few-words?"

"Say it?" She's losing me; at least I think she is...

"I just don't want to make the first move again. I don't want to make you uncomfortable..." she murmurs more or less to herself this time before releasing a weary-sounding breath.

I echo her even as realization slowly trickles over me. "Is that what this is about? You want me to make the first move?"

"Only if you want to?" She glances up at me, her cheeks flushing subtly; it's obvious even in the shadows of the night.

"I _do_ want to," I promise her.

"You're..._stalling_..."

"I know..."

"Why?"

"I guess... I guess I'm afraid, I'll... I don't know..." I concede, abandoning it. The truth? I have no idea why I'm stalling. It's a thousand things and it's nothing. That's the whole damn problem with me, and it's why I prefer it when she makes the first move. It's so much easier to let go of all the bullshit running through my head and follow her lead. _So_ much easier.

I can lead a party into battle, no problem, but _this_...? I guess I'll always be a grunt there.

"Are you _sure_ this is what you want?" she asks, with that vulnerability at the forefront of her emotions again.

"Positive." It's about the only thing I _am_ sure of.

"Then...what's stopping you?"

"Nothing." I shake my head, frustrated again. "I mean...w-would I be still making the first move if I asked you to?"

She opens her mouth to reply, but laughs lightly instead.

"I'm sorry, Teef. I'm so..._shit_ at this." There I go again, complicating everything up when it's not complicated. I really need Barret to kick my ass.

"I know..." she teases me, nudging me gently with her shoulder. "When shall I make the first move?"

"Now."


End file.
